Chapter 26
by magic-8-ball
Summary: Catcher in the Rye. A replacement last chapter using symbolism, as Holden is found by the duck pond reflecting


Catcher in the Rye Chapter 26

Unfortunately, the carousel ride ended, just like carousel rides always do. You always felt them slowing down, but you kept hanging on, 'till it had moved its last inch. Even then you still want to hold on to your horse, clenching the pole and leather rein, while your parents would be waiting until you were ready to move on. While I watched Old Phoebe go round and round, I was kinda singing along to that 'Smoke Gets In Your Eyes' song. I don't usually do anything like that, you've gotta be in the mood for those kind of things, but right then, watching Old Phoebe on that battered horse, I was. The song went sorta like this

They asked me how I knew   
My true love was true   
I of course replied   
Something here inside   
Cannot be denied

They said someday you'll find   
All who love are blind   
When your heart's on fire   
you must realize   
Smoke gets in your eyes

I was thinking 'bout the words that that kinda thing too. Not many people actually listen to the words of songs. There was this one guy at Pencey, Harold Binney, phoney as hell, who listened to records a lot. The problem was, he only heard the music, not the words. His records had the corniest, most meaningless lyrics ever. Once this other guy, got him to listen to this great one all 'bout a mother regretting yelling at her girl. Well Old Harold completely disregarded it, saying some crap about it not having a good rhythm. Anyway I was sitting there in the rain, waiting for Phoebe to come over. She didn't get a gold ring, so she didn't get a free ride. I guess she couldn't stay on the carousel forever.

And then, I did go home. Just like I had promised Old Phoebe. We walked through the park together. I was still wearing my hunting cap, but water was running off it. The protection it gave me at the carousel was wearing off, but I had stopped caring as soon as I saw Phoebe ride the carousel. I won't bore you with the details of what happened when we arrived home, what my parents said, or how that goddam elevator boy interrogated me, except for what Phoebe gave me. You'd never guess what it was. A single piece of the Little Shirley Beans record. That damn nearly killed me. The things little kids do. I almost couldn't take the piece though. It was the way Old Phoebe had it arranged in her drawer. Still in the shape of the circle. I felt so bad taking a piece away, breaking the circle. I had broken it once, and in a weird sorta way felt like I had repaired another circle by taking Old Phoebe on the carousel. It just felt so wrong. But Phoebe insisted.

Boy, it's hard to believe that was only _three_ days of my life. Even harder to believe it was _only_ a month ago. I glad it's over of course, but in a funny sorta way, I kinda miss everyone I've told you about. Never tell anybody anything. If you do, you'll start missing everybody. So here I am, sitting by a mostly frozen duck pond. Of course, as my bloody luck would have it, the non frozen part was where my hunting cap fell in. I was looking for ducks, and even found one, but I tripped and fell forward. Down my hat went into the dark depths. After that I was goddam depressed. I felt like following my hat, not to resuce it, but for it to rescue me from right now. I even started talking to the lone duck. I said "You don't have to worry about missing people. You can't even tell me where you go for the winter. You're like me in a goddam funny way. We both confuse people. We both are wondering if we are the only ones who don't know where to go. And we are both sitting by a bloody frozen pond, all goddam alone, with a barrier between us and our natural habitat."

It wasn't even that different to talking with a normal person. No one ever replies anyway.

You see, when Phoebe and I got home, it wasn't all butterflies and rainbows. Oh sure, my parents were all like 'great to see you Holden, how was school', all that phoney crap. Then they got stuck into all this crap about applying myself, not letting my talent go to waste, money they're paying for me to get a good education. I swear to God, the only thing they ever talk about is money. Then DB comes home, and all he bloody talks about is that phoney movie, with some big shot star. Plus, he has the bloody nerve to think I'm jealous of all the attention they're getting, right, and says I can be on the set of the next movie he writes. That killed me. God, I'm wondering if anyone even knows me at all. One single thing about how I'm feeling. I'm beginning to think that Old Phoebe's the only one around who wasn't a waste of two billion goddam years of evolution.

Anyway, it was then that I heard something move behind me. I goddam nearly fell out of my skin, especially when I heard my name being called. And there was Mr Antolini. So here I am now, in the backseat of his car, smoking one of his smokes, wearing his coat, and finally realizing how close I am to dying of pneumonia. For real this time. It's not that bad though, really.

We then passed the museum. There was this sign that said 'Special Exhibition Coming Soon'. That image will be forever cut into my mind. Nothing new should come to that museum. Only its visitors should change. I thought of old Phoebe going there on a class trip, to see the new display. I couldn't think of anything that depressed me more.

I'm staring out the window at all the lights of the city trying to forget about the museum. You know, so many of those lights must have been turned on goddam phoneys. Coming home from what they call a hard day's work. Yet, one off those lights may have been turned on by old Jane. And another by old Phoebe. One by old Sally, maybe? Lighting up her Christmas tree?  All their lights contributed to the glow, shining together, as one.

Mr Antolini has now pulled up at some big, white, blank looking building. "Holden" he says. "That night, all that time ago. Do understand. I was just trying to be the one thing I thought you needed most. Care. Someone to notice you, the good, not just the bad.  Now, I can see that right now I just did what you truly need. Help."

So here I am, in a pure white room, wearing a pure white gown, and with workers in pure white uniforms coming and going. I've been thinking about what Mr Antolini was saying. I like it like that, not phoney, just _simple_. My parents are now here, around my bed, acting all concerned. They are just worried one of their friends will hear about what a failure I am. I heard them talking. The only person I was glad to see was Phoebe.

I don't have pneumonia, but I can't go home. I'm going to give old Jane a buzz now. And this time, I know I won't hang up.

I'll just keep going on here, answering all these phoney questions, but being kept going by the pure white. That's what's motivating me. Some day I _will_ become the catcher in the rye.


End file.
